


in the rain, give you sunshine

by cynical_optimist



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, Repairing Friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 13:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10855155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynical_optimist/pseuds/cynical_optimist
Summary: “Do you ever worry?” Isak asks. “Because I haven’t seen it.”Sana smiles, shakes her head. “Never,” she replies, and she isn’t sure whether she’s joking or outright lying.-Sana tries to repair something.





	in the rain, give you sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> me: oh i'm just going to write a short drabble about a silly idea i had!  
> me 5.6k later: ...
> 
> anyways, thanks to [sarah](https://yousanaisendgame.tumblr.com) as always for betaing, you're the best. title from oh wonder's landslide.

Sana sends Yousef a friend request the first free moment she has.

It's after the interrogation from her mother, well meaning but worried. She'd spotted them outside, wondered what her daughter had been doing with Yousef without Elias around.

“Isn't that the one who was drinking in our house?” she asked, eyebrows drawn together. “Why were you outside with him?”

“I ran into him when I was walking home from seeing Noora and he offered to accompany me,” Sana explained, and she always feels that stab of guilt when she lies to her mother, but this is too fragile in its state of renewal to explain now. “Because it was dark, you know.”

Her mother nods, concern not fading from her eyes, mouth a tight line. “I don't want to control who you or your brother is friends with,” she says, and that's always been true but it's been a more potent truth in the past year, “but please be careful, Sana.”

“Yes, Mamma,” she replies, and she doesn't look outside the window to see if Yousef is still there, to see if she can catch one last glimpse.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Sana replies, and goes to her room before her mother asks if she knows where Elias is or why there is a flower in her hijab.

There is a part of Sana that knows she should leave things with Yousef here. That part of her tells her that Yousef is not a Muslim, that even now she needs to remove the temptation to talk and flirt and fall into love with this man, no matter how much he cares. It's a very intelligent part of her, really, but Sana had looked at the misery on Yousef’s face during their conversation and had an idea.

The idea since then has become a plan, so Sana opens her computer and loads Facebook, searching his name and sending him a friend request the moment the option appears. For a moment, her stomach curls. What if he refuses out of spite? He’d have the right, after she's so suddenly unfriended and ignored him. He has no reason to want to talk to her after tonight. She has no reason to believe that he’d want to be friends with her, still.

_ Yousef Acar has accepted your friend request, _ the notification from her computer reads.

Sana expels a breath she didn't realise she was holding. A moment later, a message pops up.

_ I enjoyed tonight _ , it says, that ridiculous, gorgeous picture of Yousef beside it grinning at her, then,  _ <3. _

_ Me too _ , she replies.  _ Thank you for the flower. _

Her face might split in half from smiling. She's warm to her very centre, a strange, tight euphoria filling her until she feels she might float off the bed. It feels dangerous, almost, talking to him like this, and she opens her phone, pulling up a contact.

_ Hey _ , she types,  _ do you want to meet to work on chemistry homework? _

Her phone buzzes with a message, but it isn't a reply--it's from Yousef.

_ It was nice to crush you in basketball _ , he says, and Sana scoffs.

_ Who beat who??? _ , she asks.  _ Because I'm pretty sure I won. _

Yousef types for a moment.  _ Well _ , the next message says, then,  _ True _ .

_ I am the reigning queen _ , she replies.

_ All hail. _

_ I'm glad you understand. _ She wants to say,  _ I'm glad you always understand me. _

Isak texts her back then, and she flinches at the sound of her phone going off.

_ sure _ , he answers.  _ what day? _

_ Sunday? Even can come if he doesn't distract you too much. _

When she turns back to her computer, Yousef has messaged her again.

_ I'd beat you in football, though _ , he's said,  _ Me and my family team. _

_ Your team of children? _

_ They're going to be very good at football. _

_ Good enough to beat me? _

_ Yes _

Sana presses her lips together, trying and failing to force the edges of them to turn down. It feels more significant than it should, that they are returning to inside jokes made before she began to ignore him.

She checks her phone.  _ he's promised to be on his best behaviour _ , Isak has replied.  _ 1 at kb? _

_ Sounds good. _

Turning off her phone, Sana devotes her full attention to her computer.

_ You can keep dreaming _ , she replies to Yousef.  _ Do you even know the rules of football? _

The bubble pops up to show that he's typing, then disappears again. A few moments later, it reappears.

_ I have plenty of time to learn them _

Sana can't stop the laugh that escapes her lips.  _ Sure _ , she replies.

_ Don't you believe me??? Am I so untrustworthy? _ A moment later,  _ Is it because I'm not Muslim? _

That feels too soon, too raw, but there's a softer edge to it than there has been in days.

_ Of course I trust you _ , she replies, and that's more honest than it likely should be.  _ I just don't trust your ability. _

_ Wow _ , he says.  _ Harsh. _

Sana looks back at her phone, remembers what she had messaged Yousef for in the first place. She frowns, pressing her tongue to the back of her teeth as she turns to her computer.

_ Hey _ , she says.

_ I think we already went over that lol _ .

_ Funny. Do you want to hang out this weekend?  _ She types and sends it in a rush, before she can change her mind.

For twenty agonisingly long seconds, the message remains on  _ seen _ .

_ That sounds good _ , he says at last, and Sana releases a long breath through her nose.  _ What time? _

_ Like 1ish on Sunday? _

_ I can do that :) _

_ Great. _

_ Great. _

_ I'll see you then? _

_ Yeah _ , he replies,  _ See you then <3 _

Sana exits out of Facebook before she can do something stupid, like send a heart back. That would be ill-advised, whatever else she may be doing.

She knows she might be crossing a line with this, might be stepping far out of her boundaries, but she doesn’t like seeing her friends in pain. If there is anything about this situation that Sana is sure of, it is that there is more misery in everyone affected than she's seen in any breakup. The hurt in everyone was obvious from the very outset, more quiet at first, then slowly growing, before imploding so dramatically that everyone was left reeling. She'd heard the fights, after, little explosions within a group of teenaged boys trying to deal with the greatest tragedy any of them had ever faced. She’d felt the sudden disappearance of Even as a dull, fearful ache. Almost everyone had blamed Mikael, at first, for a reason she hadn't understood until just this night. More than anything, though, everyone had blamed themselves. Elias had confided to Sana one night after all the boys had all left, after their parents had gone to bed, that he thought maybe they blamed him most of all. He was the most like a leader to their group, after all, and it was their parents that Even was closest to. He should have said something--should have argued with Even about the passages he was finding, about Allah and judging and the words of shocked and confused teenagers. Yousef, apparently, had blamed Allah, and Sana cannot find it within herself to resent that, even as she disagrees.

And Even--no one had realised what he was feeling, not really, not until long after the fact. Sometimes Sana still doesn't, when he hides his deepest emotions inside microexpressions that hardly anyone can pick up. She hadn't seen his aftermath, had only seen him months later at Nissen when he was--not okay, not really, but better. She'd tried to help him then, in all the small ways she could, but there was still that undercurrent of sorrow and longing and loss.

She can't help with all of that, but this, at least, is something.

Because that's what Sana does, isn't it? She fixes things? When her russ needs a bus or Noora needs a new relationship or an entire friend group has been split apart by almost-tragedy, she finds a solution. It's what she's always done, what she contributes to her relationships even when she isn't sure she does much else. It's what she can do, a level of control over circumstances not generally afforded.

She can fix this, or at least set a few people on their way to healing.

 

Saturday Sana decides to spend doing homework, because sixes don't just appear out of nowhere and she certainly won't be doing it tomorrow. When Elias gets home, cranky and dry-mouthed, she listens to him fight with their mother over Yousef and trust and doesn't quite know what to feel or do. She takes a break from googling--for answers and solutions, always solutions, only this time for herself--and goes to check up on Elias.

He's lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling, glass of water on his bedside table almost empty. She'll refill it when she leaves for what he said about trusting her.

“Hey,” she says, quiet, because her friends have had enough hangovers that she knows the protocol by now.

“Hi,” he answers. “Did you help me to that house yesterday?”

“Noora’s house? Yeah,” she says. “You were really drunk.”

He hums in assent, throws an arm over his eyes. “Yousef walked you home, then?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.” He's silent for another few seconds. “There were pictures of Even at Noora’s house.”

Sana stays silent.

“He looked really happy,” he continues. “Like, really, honestly happy. Like before everything happened.”

“That's good,” she says.

“Yeah.” He sighs, moves his arm. “I wanted to ask about him, but I didn't know how. I wanted to--fuck.” He sighs again. “My head hurts. I think I'm just going to sleep for the rest of the day.”

Sana nods, takes his cup. When she returns, careful not to spill it over her hand, she has the words she wants to say in the correct order in her mind.

“I don't think it would hurt to message him,” she says as she sets the cup down. “To try.”

She doesn't know if he's listening or even awake, but she's said her piece. She goes to leave the room.

“What if he hates me?” Elias asks, soft and miserable, and she pauses, because  _ this _ is why she has to fix it, why she has to repair these relationships. “I didn't--I didn't help him. He--”

“Even would never hate you,” she replies. “You were his boys, his squad.”

There's a moment of silence as Elias processes this. “Don't you think that makes it worse, though?” he asks. “We weren't there for him when he needed us.”

Sana takes a moment to think about her answer, chewing over her words. “Then,” she says, “maybe you can start? You didn't know how to be there for him then, but you can still learn now.”

Elias frowns, lifts his head from the bed. “Do you think so?”

Sana nods. “Yes, I think so.”

Elias swallows, lowers his head. “Okay,” he says. “Okay.”

She considers for a moment. “I think he misses you,” she adds. “As much as you miss him. I think he feels the same way you do about a lot of it.”

“You think he blames me?” Elias laughs, bitter and pained.

Sana shakes her head. “I think he blames himself.”

“Oh,” Elias says. “But he didn't…”

“Yeah,” Sana says. “I know.”

Elias nods, slow and sad, and neither of them speak. “Thank you,” he says after a moment. “For--for the water, I mean.”

Sana smiles, small. “You're welcome,” she says. “For the water.” With that, she leaves, detouring around her parents’ bedroom before her mother sees her and thinks to extend her earlier discussion.

When she gets back to her room, there are messages waiting for her on her phone.

_ Hey :) _ , Yousef says.

_ elias is gone,  _ Noora says.

_ i heard ur brother stayed at kollektivet last night?  _ Isak asks.

She replies to Noora quickly and sends a short  _ ya _ to Isak.

_ Hey _ , she replies to Yousef.  _ What's up? _

_ I was going to find a meme as an excuse _ , he says,  _ But just wanted to say hi. _

Sana feels her face heat as she grins, closing her door before anyone walks in and asks her who she's texting. She sprawls on her bed, reopening a textbook and placing the phone next to it. She can multitask, surely.

_ Hi then _ , she replies.

_ Hi _ .

Chemistry is usually an interesting subject, if not a fascinating one, but she can't muster up the concentration. She thinks she understands why Isak has such a difficult time doing assignments at his apartment, if she's so easily distracted by a few messages by her crush and he's spending every moment around the love of his life.

_ How are you this morning? I forgot to ask last night whether your mamma was angry with you for talking to me? _

_ Good, just working on homework _ , she replies.  _ She just gave me a talk about trust- I think she was angrier at Elias this morning. _

_ Ahh sorry :/ _

Sana purses her lips, squints at her phone.  _ It's my fault she hates u though. _

_ Have I already told you it was worth it? _

_ Maybe once. _

_ It was <3 _

Sana takes a deep breath, lets it out. This should--it shouldn't affect her so much. Yousef is just a boy, and he's not even one that her parents approve of. And yet, he feels like so much more than just a boy-- he feels like someone she could love, like someone she might be starting to. There is something about him that is more beautiful than she has ever seen in another human being--something that seems truly, intrinsically good, or as close to it as a human can be. He has his flaws, and she's seen enough of them over the years, but he cares, about everything, more than she’s ever seen one human care for another.

She takes another breath. Another. Her fingers move over the keys. She considers, erases, types something else.

_ Thanks :) _

_ I should let you get back to your homework _ .

_ See you tomorrow. _

_ See you then :) _

Sana peers back at her textbook, sighing. She needs to review, start on an assignment for math, and finish up all her homework. She doesn't have time to get distracted today, not with a good portion of tomorrow out of the question. She doesn't know how long it will take--whether it will be all afternoon or just a few moments. She won't take chances with her grades.

 

The next afternoon, Sana meets Yousef outside her house. Her parents are out, and she doesn't think Elias would exactly tell them at this point.

She hasn't even brought her chemistry book. Isak is going to be pissed he lugged his across Oslo to KB for nothing.

“Hi,” Yousef says. He's smiling but trying to hide it, beautiful eyes wide and earnest. “How was your morning?”

“Good,” Sana nods, and he falls into step beside her. “Very chill. Yours?”

He shrugs, turning his gaze from her to the path only now. “About the same.”

She doesn't say,  _ my heart has been beating double time all morning _ , doesn't tell him that she doesn't know if it's because of her plan or the simple fact of spending time with him. Rather, they both breathe and walk in unison, and she does not feel the need to fill the space with words.

They are walking down a path occupied by others, easily half a metre of space between them, but it feels intimate. It had felt the same way Friday night, like they were the only two people in the entire world. Now, it feels private, despite all the others around them.

That's how she always feels around Yousef, if she's being honest. She doesn't have to get close to him. She doesn't even have to talk to him. There’s just something about being with Yousef that makes her feel welcomed and secure, like there's nothing she has to say or do.

“So, where are we going?” Yousef asks a few minutes in.

“A coffee shop I like,” Sana says, “I go there to study sometimes.”

Yousef nods. “Good coffee?”

Sana looks at him, raising her eyebrows. “Well I wouldn't like it otherwise, would I?”

“I don't know!” Yousef protests. “I don't know your taste in coffee!”

“I have the best taste,” Sana says, serious.

“Really?” he asks. “Because if you liked bad coffee, you wouldn't know.”

“You should tell the barista they make bad coffee, see what happens.”

“Wow, look at you, twisting my words. What sort of friend are you?” he asks.

_ Are we friends now? _ she wants to ask, and doesn't. “The best kind,” she answers instead. She hopes it's true.

Yousef squints. “The kind that buys me a coffee?”

A shocked laugh forces its way out of Sana’s mouth. “You're the one with a job. Why should I pay?”

He smiles, and it looks private, proud. For a moment, he chews over his words, like he's considering his answer. “No, you're right,” he says finally.

“Yeah?” Sana presses.

Yousef laughs, and Sana feels something deep inside her chest warm. “Yeah.”

“I'm always right,” she adds.

“No, I don't think so.”

Sana frowns at him. “When have I not been right?”

“Well,” Yousef says. “You're definitely wrong about my future football team.”

Huffing, Sana shakes her head. “No, I'm definitely right about that.”

Yousef shrugs widely. “That's not something you're going to find out for years.”

“Sure,” Sana says. “When we find out you're wrong.”

“We’ll see, is all I'm saying,” Yousef replies.

Sana laughs, and Yousef joins her, and the silence that falls between them is even more comfortable than before.

_ here _ , Isak texts her when they're about five minutes away, and she puts the phone away without replying.

“We’re almost there,” she says.

“Cool,” Yousef says, and he's still giving her that look, like she's all he ever wants to see again.

Sana nods, looks away. Every step closer that she takes, a trepidation she had tried to ignore earlier tightens around her chest. What if this is a terrible idea? What if she ruins three friendships in one fell swoop, dooms everything that may happen with Even and Yousef?

What if this is what causes Yousef to decide she's not worth his time?

Then, she reassures herself, perhaps that would be for the best. If Yousef stopped talking to her out of his own volition, she would be miserable, but she would at least feel less guilt. She at least wouldn't have to make the decision. She at least wouldn't have the temptation.

So it's ultimately a win-win. Unless, of course, she ruins the lives of people she cares about. That's not an outcome she can tolerate.

_ Almost there _ , she replies to Isak.  _ Where are you? _

_ back corner booth. its quieter here. _

_ Cool, see you soon. _

_ even says hi _

Sana turns her phone back off and looks up at Yousef. “A classmate needs help with homework,” she explains, which isn't a lie. “This is it, by the way.”

Yousef nods, looking at the coffee shop. “Looks nice,” he says.

“Do you trust me, then?” she asks, too sincere.

“Well, I'll have to see what the coffee tastes like.”

“Well,” Sana says. “You won’t have to wait long.”

He follows her into the coffee shop, and she decides to order her own drink before looking for Isak. There isn’t that much of line, so she gets to the front quickly, ordering for herself and waiting for Yousef to do the same before they move to the side. She can just see Isak and Even in the corner, too wrapped up in each other to have noticed them come in.

“It’s nice inside, too,” Yousef says. “I’d give it a solid four stars right now.”

“Four stars? What are you, a professional critic?”

Yousef nods, earnest. “Don’t you know?” he asks, and it takes Sana a moment to recognise the twinkle in his eyes as teasing. “That’s my second job. I walk into random coffee shops and judge them. It doesn’t pay well, but I do it for the experience.”

Sana nods, humouring. “Oh, okay. Do you have a blog? What’s its name?”

“I…” For a moment, he looks lost. “Three, actually. Their names are very complicated, I’ll have to send them to you later.”

“I’ll remind you,” Sana promises, as the barista puts her coffee on the bench. “Thank you,” she says, taking it and and a lid.

“Yeah, you do that,” Yousef replies, and his coffee comes a few moments later. “So are we going to drink these here, or?”

“Here,” Sana answers. “Follow me, I know the good places to sit.”

Yousef nods, taking a sip of his cappuccino as he falls into step behind here. “This is good,” he says, not looking up. “I suppose you have good taste in coffee after all.”

“Hi, Sana,” Isak greets, noticing her despite being half-buried in his boyfriend’s arms. “Hey, where’s your bag?”

That’s when Even looks up-- Yousef too, probably, but Sana can’t see him-- and freezes.

“Hey, Isak, Even,” Sana says. “This is--”

“Yousef,” Even finishes, his face that awful blank slate he puts on whenever he’s feeling an emotion too strong or negative to feel comfortable displaying.

When Sana steps aside and turns to see Yousef fully, he looks as though all his breath has been knocked out of him, like everything inside him is reeling and unable to find its footing. It tears at Sana to see him like this, to see him so lost, every ounce of misery clear on his face, and she wants to turn back to Even and Isak, but she can’t bring herself to look away.

“Even,” Yousef replies, mouthing around the words as though he can’t quite find the voice to form them. His gaze shifts to Sana, and she looks back, hoping to communicate without words everything inside her-- the dull ache inside her every time she hears the boys mention Even, the unbearable misery and guilt that Yousef carries with him, that every one of them do. The furious care that she holds for all of them, hidden deeper, kept safe by layers of indifference. She is not indifferent now.

Slow, reassuring, Sana nods once. Yousef looks back to Even.

“Hi,” he says, hesitant but sincere.

“Hi,” Even replies. Neither of them have moved, shoulders tense and bodies drawn up tall and careful.

“Isak,” Sana says. “Come on.” She gestures toward the door, and Isak half-stands, frowning.

“What?” Isak asks. “What’s going--”

“Isak,” Sana says again. This isn’t  a conversation either of them should be here for.

He looks between Even and Yousef, makes a decision, nods. He presses a soft kiss to Even’s temple, brushes his hand, and follows Sana out of the coffee shop.

“Who was that?” he asks Sana, and she takes a sip of her coffee before answering.

“He’s a friend of my brother,” she says. “He and Even used to know each other.”

Isak frowns. “When? Like-- like at Elvebakken, you mean? Does he know Mikael, too?”

Sana has already crossed far too many lines to count, but this explanation should be for Even to give, in his own time. “Yeah, maybe,” she answers, shrugging. “I was talking to Yousef the other day and he mentioned Even, so.”

“And you don’t know how they knew each other?” Isak presses.

Sana considers her answer. “I don’t think it’s something I can explain.”

“Sana,” Isak says, pleading. “Please.”

“Yousef didn’t tell me much,” she replies. “Really.” She’d been there for most of it, anyway, seen it unfold, seen everyone fall apart. “It’s better to ask Even.”

Isak frowns, looking down at his feet. “He doesn’t talk about it,” he says.

Sana looks at him, at the concern and sorrow and hint of fear on his face--fear that what? That Even will leave him? That Even doesn’t trust him? Sana has never seen Even so completely in love, not like this. “He’ll tell you when he’s ready,” she says. She isn’t sure when she became the relationship counsellor of her friend groups, what with helping Noora get over that asshole and listening to Eva talk about Vilde.

Isak nods. “I know,”  he sighs. “I know.”

 

“So, Yousef,” Isak says after they’ve been walking for some time, like he’s testing out the name. “That’s the guy you brought?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sana answers. “One of Elias’ friends.”

Isak looks at her, sly despite the underlying concern on his face. “And you were just talking about his old friends?”

“I guess.” She clears her throat and takes another long sip.

Isak is almost smiling now. “And then you invited him to a coffee shop with you?”

Sana doesn’t meet his eyes. “I’ve known him for a while.”

“Right,” Isak laughs. “Like I’ve known Even for a while, or?”

Sana scrunches her nose. “No,” she says quickly. “We’re not--”

Isak raises his eyebrows, disbelieving. “Really? Because there was a lot of staring going on. It was sickening.”

“ _ That _ was sickening? What were you doing when we came in?”

“Uh,” says Isak. “Well.”

Sana takes a sip of her coffee to hide her smile. “Sickening,” she repeats from behind the lid.

“You were still staring,” he says after a beat. “Very dramatically. Like in a movie or something.”

Sana takes another sip, longer this time. “We aren’t staring at each other, Isak,” she says. “Not in the way you think.”

“Really?” Isak asks. “Because that isn’t the way that, like, Jonas looks at Madhi or Eva looks at Vilde.”

Personally, Sana thinks the second one is a terrible example, but she’ll keep that thought to herself. “It isn’t the type of staring that will ever result in anything,” she explains.

“Oh.” Isak frowns, pensive. “Are you okay?”

Sana nods. “Of course,” she says, frowning at him as if she has no idea what he’s talking about.

They walk quietly for a few minutes, then Isak stops in place. Sana stops, too, frowning at him.

“Wait,” he says. “You had this planned the entire time?”

“I have everything planned always,” Sana says, which isn’t true, but she knows it’s what her friends believe about her. She doesn’t mind it, or the respect it gives her.

“So you made me carry my heavy textbooks all the way here for  _ nothing _ ?”

“I did my homework yesterday,” Sana confesses.

“And you didn’t warn me? That’s cold, Sanasol.”

Sana shrugs, smiling, and finishes her coffee. It’s been a while since they left KB, but Even and Yousef might want to talk for longer. The other option is, of course, that either one of them could have decided to walk out of the shop.

Isak starts walking again. “I didn’t even get my coffee to-go. It’s going to be cold by the time I get back to it.”

“Maybe you need to become a superhero, then,” Sana says. “You know, see the future.”

Isak looks pensive. “That might be cool,” he says. “I think it would also be terrible. You’d see, like, the end of the world. You’d see every bad thing that would ever happen.”

“Maybe,” Sana agrees. “But you wouldn’t have to worry or wonder.”

“Do you ever worry?” Isak asks. “Because I haven’t seen it.”

Sana smiles, shakes her head. “Never,” she replies, and she isn’t sure whether she’s joking or outright lying.

Isak snorts, opening his mouth to reply, but his phone goes off. He looks down at it. “Even says we can head back now.”

Nodding, Sana looks around them. They’ve been walking in approximate circles, so they’re not too far away. She throws her empty cup in the first bin she sees, following Isak back toward the coffee shop.

The walk back is quieter, tenser. By the time they arrive, Sana is wishing she still had her cup, to have something to do with her hands. Instead, she slides them into her pockets, draws her coat tighter around herself.

Approaching the table, Sana observes Yousef and Even. They’re sitting down across from each other, and she can only see the back of Yousef’s head but Even is smiling widely, despite red-rimmed eyes.

Even looks up when he notices them, his face splitting into what Sana knows is the smile he  reserves for Isak. A moment later, Yousef looks up too. He looks much the same as Even, teary but smiling softly.

“Hey,” Isak says, and walks further than Sana has stopped to his boyfriend.

“Hi,” Even murmurs back. “Yousef, this is-- this is my boyfriend, Isak.”

Yousef nods in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says. “I’m sorry for interrupting your, um…”

“Oh, Sana and Isak were going to study,” Even reassures him. “I was just tagging along.”

Frowning, Yousef turns back to Sana. They meet eyes, and she knows that he’s asking endless questions. She tries to communicate some sort of answer, but there isn’t much to say.

“We chatted about the Chemistry on our walk, actually,” Isak says. “So, Even, we may as well go home.”

He’s standing next to Even, brushing his hair out of his eyes, and when he nods Isak leans down and kisses his nose softly. Even reaches up and strokes Isak’s cheek with his thumb, and they’re both smiling those stupid smiles people only find when they’re in love. When they stand, Even slings his arm over Isak’s shoulders as Isak grabs his bag.

“I’ll text you,” Even tells Yousef. “If...if that’s alright?”

“Yeah,” Yousef answers. “I’d like that.”

Even nods, still smiling. “Great.”

He and Isak walk out, and Sana moves to take his seat. For a while, she and Yousef both stare at the table, Yousef playing with his coffee cup. The silence between them is less comfortable than it’s ever been.

Sana looks up at Yousef and finds his attention trained on his cup. It’s easier, somehow, to look at him when he’s not looking back. She studies the lines of his face, the way strands of his hair flop out of that ridiculous bandana to fall over his eyes.

After an age, he meets her eyes. He swallows, but his lips curve into a smile. “Thank you,” he says.

Sana shrugs, but she’s smiling, too, small and hopeful. “Should we head back?” she asks. “Before it gets dark?”

Yousef nods, then pauses. “Actually,” he says. “Could I, um. I need some time to think.”

Sana’s heart swoops to her stomach. She’s not sure if this is the moment he tells her he never wants to speak to her again, or if  it will happen later, but she should have realised it was the only true possibility. She nods. “It’s probably best if Mamma doesn’t see you with me again, anyway.”

“Yeah.” Yousef examines his coffee--surely cold by now, but if he wants another he  _ is _ in a coffee shop-- and sighs. “It was good to see Even again.”

“I’m glad,” Sana says, standing. “I should start home, now.”

“Of course,” Yousef nods. When he looks at her, it’s the same look as always, and something inside her settles at that. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye,” Sana says, and leaves the shop before she can add anything else.

The walk home is quiet. Sana checks her phone as she walks, answering messages from the girls and her family. After a while, she fishes her headphones out of her pocket, plugging them in and pressing shuffle on her music.

She realises, after about the fourth skip, what a ridiculous amount of songs about love there are in the world and in her music library. After the seventh, she gives up, pulling out her headphones and resigning herself to the sounds of the street.

When she arrives home, she sheds her jacket and her shoes and announces her arrival. One of her parents might reply from deeper in the house, but Sana isn’t certain. She heads to her room without actively looking for anyone, lying down and scrolling through her various feeds until there’s nothing left to scroll through.

It isn’t until hours later that Yousef messages her, moments after she’s finished helping clean up after dinner and made it back to her room.

_ Seriously, thank you for today _ , he sends.  _ Even if you did lure me there under false pretences lol ;P _

Sana can’t help the relieved breath that escapes her lips, or the way they tilt up at the corners.

_ It was no problem _ , she replies.

_ No, honestly _ , Yousef says.  _ Thanks. _

_ You’re welcome. _

Sana presses her phone to her chin, sinks down on her bed. She taps her index finger against the case, then pulls her phone back to where she can see it.

Quickly, before she can change her mind, she sends another message.

_ <3 _

A moment later, Yousef replies.  _ <3. _

Sana grins, the motion taking over the entirety of her face, and she lets her phone drop into her lap as she presses a hand to her cheek, feeling skin touch warm skin. Her heart beats just  a little too fast, and she feels it in every one of her fingers and toes.

The truth of the matter is this: Sana does not know what will happen with Yousef. She does not know if everything will crash and burn worse than anything she has seen in her life. But this right here-- hanging out with him, messaging him, laughing and joking and soaking in silence with him--this is something to hold onto.

It is, Sana decides, worth any future fallout, and, at least  for now, that is worth everything.

**Author's Note:**

> tbqh i'm not even sure if this is something i want to see in canon; i just wanted to write it.
> 
> find me on my [tumblr](https://boxesfullofyousana.tumblr.com) if you want to talk about this ridiculous kids in love.


End file.
